


I Thought I Lost You

by bell0na



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:37:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bell0na/pseuds/bell0na
Summary: Can I request a fic where gabriel is the reader’s gaurdian angel and he leaved her in balthazars care while he goes to confront lucifer and when he dies she can feel it and Baltahzar has to comfort her only to have gabriel come back just as she starts to move on with her life as a hunter?





	I Thought I Lost You

Ever since you were little you knew you hadn’t been alone. There was always someone watching you, making sure bad things didn’t happen when you knew they probably would. It was like you had a guardian angel watching over you.

The excitement, shock, awe, and fright when you found out this was a true fact still stuck with you. You had been 17 at the time, sitting in the car of a boy you were hoping to go steady with, when he started to get a little handsy, and wasn’t quite listening to you. Which is when a man knocked on the driver’s side window. The boy sat right up, hands on the wheel and scared of what might happen to him, while the man walked around to your side and opened the door. He asked you to get out, which you did - even if you didn’t know him. But he felt safe, it was an instinct. Then he shooed the boy off and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. Your stomach twisted and suddenly you were standing alone on your front porch.

 

 

Later that same night the man appeared in your room again as you were finishing your homework. He explained everything to you, from the dis- and re-appearing to the reasons that everything seemed to go alright for you. Because your guardian angel was none other than the Archangel Gabriel.

After that night, the two of you were nearly inseparable. Always getting into mischief in some way or another, he was loose for a guardian angel, not at all uptight and strict as you expected one to be. It was great. He always made sure you were the only one who knew he was there though, and made sure that whatever hunt you were on never resulted in you dying - but he made it a point to intervene in those only when he absolutely had to. When he was near you, there was always this underlying feeling of safety - one you barely registered was even there.

When you were 26, Gabriel appeared in your apartment just as you walked in from a rugaru hunt a few towns over, your hair was matted from a few days of not combing it out, but it wouldn’t be too bad to return to its former glory. You smiled at him in greeting, but your guard shot back up when you noticed the other man with him.

“Gabriel.” You said carefully with a curt nod.

“Hey ____, I brought someone for you to meet.” He said, flashing his teeth at you for half a second before he flourished a hand, “This is Balthazar. My brother.”

You let your gaze trail over both mn, both angels. Gabriel was dressed as he usually was, jeans, brown shirt and an olive jacket, dirty blond hair combed back out of his face. This new guy, Balthazar, was dressed considerably nicer, with clean fitting jeans, a dark blue v-neck shirt, and a black blazer. He had short blond hair with the slightest curl, and a slight scruff too. When he spoke he had an accent too. Something that sounded like it was definitely from the United Kingdom area, British if you had to put a label on it, but you had never been good at naming accents to begin with.

“Hello Miss ____,” Balthazar said, taking your hand and pressing light lips to it, “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” You replied, smiling at him, then you turned to Gabriel, “So, now you’re bringing guests to my house? What’s the occasion? Should I start cooking?” You joked.

“No. Actually, this is a really serious visit.” Gabriel sighed, moving to sit on your couch. You followed, with Balthazar trailing behind. You sat right next to Gabriel, while Balthazar seemed to take a keen interest in whatever was happening out of your one window.

“We talking Princess Bride serious or Die Hard serious?”

Gabriel just looked at you, no humor in his eyes and an almost sad smile on his lips.

“Oh. Actually serious.” You mumbled, sulking, “Okay. Hit me.”

Gabe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I need to go away for a day and take care of a very big fish, actually, save two of them and their sorry asses. Before you ask, no, no one else can do it. And yes, it’s dangerous. Which is why I bought Balthazar.”

Right on cue, Balthazar turned and waved at you with his fingers, and turned back to the window as Gabriel continued, “There’s a chance I could run into one of my older brothers on this run. And he’s not gonna be happy with me.”

“Wait,” You interjected, “Doesn’t the rest of your family, present company excluded, think you’re dead?”

Gabe nodded, “Yeah, but after this they’ll know I wasn’t, and I might be dead. Either way, it’s not a very good thing.”

“So then why are you doing it?”

“Because it’s the best way to protect you.” He said, finally looking at you for the first time this entire conversation, “And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You were silent for a while, looking from him to Balthazar and back again, “So… So what, you’re dumping me with a new guardian angel after 26 years? I mean, call me crazy but that’s kinda cold, Gabe.”

“Actually, I’m not a replacement. I’m more of… of a place-holder, per say,” Balthazar said without taking his gaze from the window in that proper voice of his, “What Gabriel is going to do is highly dangerous, but I still think he can make it back. But the people he’s going after - Particularly Lucifer - know things, and can hurt you. I’m to make sure nothing happens to you while he’s gone.”

“Wait, Lucifer? Are you going after  _the_ Lucifer? Now I know I’m not crazy because that’s insane!!” You said, standing up at that, “That’s not a run, Gabriel, that’s a suicide mission!”

He stood up, “Now, ___, hold on–”

“No! Don’t you ‘hold on’ me!” you pushed his hands away, “You can’t do this, I can’t let you do this! Gabriel, what if he captures you and makes you fight for him! What if you do die? What am I supposed to do then? Do you honestly expect me to be able to survive without you?”

“Yes. I do.” He said before you could say another word, “Even better, I don’t think, I know you’ll be okay no matter what happens.”

“But how can you be sure?” You said, your eyes starting to sting, “Even you can’t know that for sure.”

“Bologna. I’ve watched you grow up, from birth to your first hunt to your first beer, I Know what you do to people who cross you, and I know you can take care of yourself.”

“You’ve got a reputation of being, ah, how do they put it? … A rather ‘bad ass’ in the hunting community too.” Balthazar chimed in, and you glared at him.

“See? You’ll be fine.” Gabe said, taking your hands in his.

You looked at him, eyes stinging even more and your vision becoming blurry. Your best friend was standing in front of you, telling you that he was about to run off to his death. You were breaking down, worrying about him even though he was still standing in front of you. Before you knew it you leaped at him, throwing your arms around him and holding him tight, letting tears fall.

“If you die I’m going to kill you.” You mumbled in his ear and he chuckled.

“I would expect nothing less from you.” He said, smiling into your shoulder. He pulled back and pressed a light kiss to your hairline, “You’ll be in good hands. Trust him.”

He held your face between his hands, cradling it, both of your eyes darting all over each other’s faces, desperately committing the others to memory. Your eyes met and another tear fell, he wiped it away with one thumb and smiled at you. Then vanished. You slid onto the couch, wringing your hands together and worried more than you thought was humanly possible. Balthazar gently sat on the couch beside you, watching you with careful eyes.

“So,” He began, the word clipped short by his accent, “What would you like to do?”

You didn’t answer, just sat there with your eyes staring off into space. He sighed, placing his hands firmly on his knees as he got up, and moved to your kitchen. There were sounds coming from there for the next 15 minutes or so, and he came out with a bowl of pasta salad in one hand and a martini in the other. That was a weird combo.

“There’s food in the kitchen. I suggest you go eat.” When you didn’t move, he sighed again, setting his own food and drink down and he pulled you up, “Go eat. Sitting there falling apart as you worry about him won’t help him. He’s a big boy, I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

His words took a minute to sink in and pulled you out of your funk. You shook your head, flashing Balthazar a brief, thankful smile, and moved to get a bowl of your own. When you returned, he had set up a game of cards, War, and was waiting for you to come play. You sat, and the game went on for hours. You talked, and played, and he won the first round.

Gabe had been right, he was a good temp-guardian angel. You were laughing at one of his jokes as you paused the game, standing up to go to the bathroom, then to the kitchen for drinks. You took care of business in the bathroom, then walked into the kitchen to make a pair of dry martinis. You were walking back to the table when you felt it.

This stab in your gut, your vision became unfocused and black at the edges. The martini glasses dropped from your hands and fell to the floor, shattering. The sound echoed and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. You staggered, and suddenly Balthazar was supporting you, one hand on your back and the other grasping one forearm to keep you from falling. Your eyes saw a scene that wasn’t that of your living area, and instead, you saw Gabriel lying on the floor of some other place, wings burned and charred on the ground below him. The image stayed, your heartbeat growing louder and louder in your ears. All of a sudden your vision tunneled and everything was back at normal speed and volume. Your knees buckled and you crumpled to the floor, Balthazar keeping you from hurting yourself too much.

“He’s gone…” You breathed.

“Gabriel… He’s… he’s gone.”

And you felt…

Empty.

 

~~~

Balthazar took care of you that night, making sure you went to bed, and he dried your tears and even lay in bed with you until you cried yourself to sleep and stayed until you woke up. He stayed by your side for days and then began to ration the time he spent with you, allowing you to fight your grief and conquer it with his aid only when it was needed.

For years it went on like this. Balthazar came over once a month, but other than that you rarely saw him anymore. But you knew he was watching. You couldn’t feel it like you could with Gabriel, but you knew. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to hunting, not for a long time. Your town got rather cramped with nasties getting wind that you were broken, but they never challenged you. And you were happy - well, not happy, but okay to let them just do their thing, until one moved in next door and ate your neighbor’s daughter. That was the last straw. You snapped and walked over there in the dead of night, with only a silver machete (one Gabriel gave you for your 20th birthday - the year with the stripper cake) for weapons. The monster didn’t stand a chance. You walked in, tested it, and sliced it’s head off.

Just like that, everything cleared out of your town again. You were back, in the loosest sense of the term. You were active. Just, not seeking. The monsters didn’t seem to care though, they took off. And you let yourself go again.

Four years later, you were walking back to your apartment with a skip in your step. You had gone bar hopping that night and were headed home with several phone numbers of very attractive men in your pockets. Life was actually looking up for the first time in years. You unlocked your door, hanging up your coat and keys in the night-time darkness. Who needed lights anyway? You made your way to the couch in the dark, flopping down on - well it wasn’t a couch cushion.

You yelped, falling to the floor, then wildly throwing punches at whoever was on your couch. They yelped in shock and you scrambled back, eyes wide and focusing in the almost complete blackness. You reached for your thigh and pulled three throwing knives out, flinging them at the sitting figure on your couch and pinning them there. Hopefully, if your aim was sure in the darkness, you had just pinned the cloth of whatever was by their neck, left ear, and arm. And ruined your couch in your process.

You sighed, standing and turning on your lights with your back to the figure, “You’ve got five seconds to explain what the hell you’re doing in my house before I call the cops, or maybe even gut you,” So much for the pleasant buzz of alcohol, “Five… Four…”

“Wait! Wait, ____ hold on!”

You whipped around eyes blazing. The figure pinned to your couch (Ha, suck it, you could still aim accurately in the dark) wore a familiar skin, dark blond hair, whiskey eyes, a black shirt and khaki cargo pants with a dark brown leather jacket. His eyes were alight with some mischievous thing, but that could have been your mind playing tricks on you.

“I was expecting a warm welcome, not thi–” You cut him off by splashing holy water on his face. He spluttered but didn’t scream, then you sliced across his hand with a silver knife. Nothing. You felt hope start to rise in your heart, but you pressed it down. You retrieved your angel blade and sliced across his thigh, hope rising as you saw a shining white-gold light shine through and heard him scream.

You took a step back, looking at the intruder with wide eyes, “If this is a trick you had better drop it now, because I promise you I will kill you. I will kill you so hard your great-great-great-great-grandchildren will feel it.”

“That’s a bit of an excessive threat, isn’t it?” He said, raising one eyebrow, “C’mon sweets, you know me. Would I ever trick you?”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “Yes. Yes, he would.”

His gold eyes narrowed as he looked at you, “I left you in good hands four years ago. I died, and yet you still haven’t killed me yet.”

You blinked, giving the blade a little wave and taking a step forward. You carefully aimed the blade at his throat, taking step after step until it was pressing up against the skin of his Adam’s Apple.

The figure held up his hands,  “Alright! Alright, hang on! Remember that kid? In the woods that one night when you were 17? He was being handsy and wouldn’t stop when you asked him to? You had pre-calc homework that night if I remember right.”

That stilled your movement. Your eyes widened and your grip slacked on the angel blade, allowing it to clatter to the floor. The man on your couch slowly stood up as you took a few steps back, that oh so familiar mischievous smirk playing on his lips. He raised his arms and moved in for a hug, only to be sent reeling back onto the couch by a well-aimed slap from you. It left a rather nice red mark in the shape of your hand on the side of his face.

“You asshole!” You shouted, “You’re a Grade-A ass, you know that Gabriel?!”

Gabriel looked up at you, rubbing the side of his face with a mock-hurt expression on his face, but his eyes were dancing. He stood again, holding his hands in what was a semi-apologetic gesture. You stared at him, fighting the tears you felt building in your eyes, then leaped at him, causing Gabriel to take a few steps back and wrap his arms around you. You held the archangel in the tightest hug you could manage, burying your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent and relishing in that safe feeling you finally had again after four years.

If it was possible, you hugged him tighter, “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

He chuckled, one hand moving to pat your head, “I won’t. I promise.”


End file.
